


you're my golden hour

by fourleafclovers



Series: golden hour [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, brief discussion of drug abuse, country music AU, gratuitous dolly parton references, john diggle is a saint, oliver queen loves to cuddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2019-09-21 07:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17039696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourleafclovers/pseuds/fourleafclovers
Summary: Felicity Smoak never planned on being a country singer. She didn't plan on Oliver Queen either, yet here she is, singing her way across America with the crown prince of country.  What could go wrong?





	1. everything changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to my self-indulgent country star au!!!! This is partially inspired by A Star is Born (though there will be significantly less pain) and heavily influenced by Kacey Musgraves music, which I played on repeat while studying for my final exams. 
> 
> A few things to note: I really fudged the geography of the DC universe as well as the reality of how the music industry works. In this AU, Star City is essentially Los Angeles and Metropolis is New York. Vegas is still Vegas, though I did transplant the Bluebird Cafe there from Nashville, as it is a real place that features up-and-coming country artists as well as industry vets. Taylor Swift has played there, ok? It's legit. Also, lines that are being sung or referenced as lyrics are italicized.
> 
> This will eventually be a multi-chapter AU full of fluffy goodness and tropes galore. See the end notes for information on songs used in this chapter (or listen to them while reading to help set the mood).

The café is overly crowded for a Tuesday night, with people lined up along the walls in a way Felicity has never seen before. In the eight months she’s worked at the Bluebird Café she’s gotten to know the regular patrons, learning how they take their coffee and who their favourite acts are. She spots John Diggle, the café’s owner, sitting at a small table near the stage and quickly makes her way over to him.

“Why are all these people here? Did they make a wrong turn trying to get to the strip? They know there’s no gambling here right, I mean we barely have a liquor license after the whole whiskey fiasco last month, though in my defense I didn’t _know_ Slade Wilson was going to show up already hammered…”

John laughs under his breath, tearing his eyes away from the tablet he has resting in front of him. “That definitely wasn’t your fault, kiddo, don’t sweat it. Queen’s in town, these folks are hoping he’s going to show up and work on some of his new material.”

“Wait, Queen? Like Freddie Mercury—that Queen? They know he’s dead right? Are we doing ghost shows now John, because that was not mentioned in the employment contract I signed, and ghosts spook me.”

“No, not the band Queen. Oliver Queen, son of Moira and Robert Queen? I know you know who they are,” John raises an eyebrow pointedly, causing Felicity to roll her eyes.

“Yes, okay, I know those Queens. My mom loves Moira, This Kiss is one of the first songs I ever learned to play on the guitar. But why would Oliver come here? Isn’t this place a little,” she pauses, trying to find an adequate descriptor for the café,  
“…quaint, for him? I mean, it’s a great place, I love it, but he seems more like a sold-out stadium tour kind of guy, you know?”

John shrugs, standing up from the table and moving towards a door marked “Employees Only.” Felicity follows him, moving quickly to keep up with his long strides. “I don’t know what to tell you, Smoak. He reached out and asked if he would be able to drop in and work on some stuff. He promised it wouldn’t interfere with anyone else’s gigs, so your 8:30 slot is safe. Hell, maybe he won’t even show up.”

* 

Felicity Smoak did not grow up wanting to be a country singer. While her mom played classic country songs in their small apartment, a never-ending stream of Dolly Parton and Moira Dearden, her dad taught her about computers. Country music was mostly about broken hearts and cheating husbands, in his opinion, and it wasn’t logical. Computers, however, were. No matter what, computers were consistent.

And then, one day, her dad left. Like the men in the country songs he so despised, he skipped town without saying goodbye to Felicity, leaving her with a pile of computer parts and a broken heart. Months passed, and by the time her eighth birthday came around, Felicity knew he wasn’t coming back. By her ninth birthday, she had stopped working with computers entirely. When her mom asked her why she stopped, Felicity told her it reminded her of her dad too much. Donna pulled her into a hug, her heart breaking for her daughter.

“You know, Dolly always says that we can’t direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails. Adjust your sails, baby.”

The next day, Donna and Felicity pile all of her dads old computer parts into a car they borrowed from their neighbour and sell them to the closest pawnshop. They celebrate their fresh start with drive-thru burgers and shakes, rolling the windows down to soak in the Vegas sunshine. Felicity turns up the radio and listens as her mom starts singing along with Dolly Parton, looking happier than Felicity has seen her in years.

_“Just because I'm blond, don't think I'm dumb! 'Cause this dumb blond ain't nobody's fool…”_

*

When Felicity turns ten, more than two years after her dad left, she asks her mom for a guitar. She hasn’t forgotten that day at the pawnshop, when she witnessed how music completely changed her mom’s attitude. She wants to do that, change the world one song at a time.

She learns quickly, moving her fingers up and down the strings with the same love she used to use on computers. It’s like coding, somehow second nature while still challenging. Felicity learns her mom’s favourite songs and Donna gets teary-eyed every time she performs. When Felicity nervously starts singing a song she’s never heard and quietly mentions that she wrote it, Donna cries for an hour.

So she keeps writing, performing for her mom and occasionally her neighbours. She starts tinkering with computers again, determined to create her own memories because fuck her dad, for real. When it comes time to consider colleges, she weighs her options carefully and ultimately decides that if she can get into MIT, she should probably seize the day and focus on computer science.

She doesn’t stop writing but _does_ start performing in public, little open mic nights in Boston where her set lists include original songs and country standards. She doesn’t get booed off stage, thankfully, and makes friends with the staff at the bar she frequents. By the time she finishes her degree (and a double Master’s, because she’s an over-achiever), Boston feels like home but she misses Vegas.

She books a one-way ticket to Vegas the day after her graduation and when her mom picks her up at the airport, Dolly is playing on the radio.

*

She meets John Diggle by accident, really. It’s after eight and she’s _just_ heading home from the mind-numbing entry level IT job she secured a week after moving back to Vegas. It mostly involves recovering lost documents and teaching people how to effectively remove porn viruses from their computers, so she’s really in need of coffee. Preferably in an I.V., but she isn’t picky.

She stumbles upon the Bluebird Café because it’s open late but isn’t full of tourists, a rare sight for any business that close to the Las Vegas Strip. There’s music playing quietly over the stereo when she walks in, something surprisingly country considering they are in the middle of Sin City, and the atmosphere is extremely cosy. Felicity wanders over to the counter, approaching the man at the register with a smile. “I need the biggest coffee you have, like one the size of my head. No, bigger. Do you have that? Wait, it’s late, maybe I should go decaf?” She quickly shakes her head, scrunching her nose as the barista-man laughs under his breath. “No, of course not, decaf is for quitters. One large coffee. Please.”

The man behind the counter quickly rings up her total and grabs a to-go cup, filling it with a dark, delicious smelling blend. “You have a name, miss?”

“Yes, I do. Felicity. That’s my name, my first name. I would tell you my full name but I had a bad experience with a stalker in college. Can’t trust anyone, especially not lacrosse players.” She takes the cup from the counter, taking a large gulp knowing she will probably burn her tongue. “I’m sorry, that was awkward. Too long without caffeine. Do _you_ have a name, Mr. Huge Coffee Man?”

“Diggle. John Diggle. I own this place.”

“Well, John Diggle, it’s a nice place.” Felicity looks around, looking at the space with more clarity now that she has had her caffeine fix. “What’s the stage for? Are you expecting Celine to come by once her show is done?”

John smirks, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Not exactly. We’re more of a country joint, lots of people come down here to workshop new material or to build up their resumes.”

“So, do you guys take anyone? I mean, is this a ‘you must be Twitter verified to perform’ kind of joint, because I can totally make myself verified. It’s not entirely legal, but. It could happen.” Biting her lip, Felicity looks at John with what she hopes is not-entirely-desperation in her eyes. John looks at her before gesturing at the stage.

“The floor is open. Show me what you’ve got, kid.”

*

Eight months later, Felicity has a standing performance slot (8:30 on Thursdays) and a solid friend in John Diggle.

When she steps onstage that night, the entire café is buzzing. She’s never felt that kind of energy in an audience before, and it leads to what she considers one of her best performances at the Bluebird Café. She ends her set with an original song that has the audience clapping along as she sings about finding a silver lining.

It is pure magic.

She isn’t sure if it’s the possibility of Oliver Queen showing up or the fact that the Las Vegas Knights are on a winning streak, but everyone Felicity talks to has something nice to say about her performance, a rarity in a city of cynics and gamblers. When she finishes telling an enthusiastic guest that yes, she wrote most of her own music and no, she doesn’t give out her number to random audience members, Diggle has flagged her down and is pointing towards the employee lounge.

“Someone wants to talk to you,” he says with a grin, eyes sparkling. He pushes the door open for her and she walks through the doorway, turning to watch as he trails behind her.

“Is it my mom? Did you facetime her while I was performing again? She knows I’m gonna tell her all about it later, so I don’t see why –“ she cuts herself off as she stumbles into a man. A tall, handsome man built like a brick wall. She opens her mouth to apologize until she looks at his face, her stomach dropping instantly.

“Oh frack, you’re Oliver Queen.”

Oliver Queen, THE Oliver Queen, smiles and extends his hand towards her. “Yup, that’s me. Great work out there tonight.”

“Thanks, so much, I love your mom. I mean, she’s a great artist, not that your dad isn’t, but some of her original stuff is my mom’s favourite. Have I said mom too many times? I’m talking, a lot, I’m going to stop now,” Felicity babbles, shaking his hand and trying not to notice how strong his grip is. He definitely works out; his biceps rival Digg’s, which she didn’t think was possible.

Both men start laughing and she quickly draws her hand back. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but it was cute,” Oliver says, winking at her as he moves to take a seat. Felicity and Diggle follow him further into the employee lounge, Felicity moving to where she left her gear and placing her guitar into its case. “Do you perform here often?”

 “Felicity is one of our regulars,” Digg replies, “in addition to being our resident tech guru. She’s the one who set up a website for the café, actually, which makes the scheduling process a hell of a lot easier.”

Felicity sits down beside Diggle, having finished her post-show ritual of putting away her guitar and slipping off her shoes. “You flatter me,” she demurs, “but it’s true. I am awesome with tech. I had to put my MIT degree to use somehow, might as well invest it in a place I love.”

Oliver whistles lowly, “MIT, huh? That’s fancy. How’d a Boston girl end up singing country in Vegas?”

“I grew up here, with my mom, who loves country. One day I decided I want to learn how to play guitar and, well, here we are. I headed to the east coast for college because MIT has the best comp-sci program but there’s no place like home, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

*

“Can I ask something that is maybe wildly inappropriate?”

Oliver looks up from where he’s scribbling in his journal, raising an eyebrow at her. “I’ve never stopped you before, have I?”

Felicity rolls her eyes and makes her way over to the booth he’s sitting in, sliding onto the bench opposite him. “Hush, you know I can’t control the babbles. Seriously though, I have a question and I just. I don’t know if you’ll want to answer it.”

He looks up at her, setting down his pen and folding his arms across his chest. “Felicity. If it’s you asking, I’ll answer.”

God, when he looks at her with those soulful eyes she can’t help but swoon. Oliver decided to stick around Vegas for a bit, declining Dig’s offer to hop onstage whenever he wants in favour of picking both his and Felicity’s brains about some new music. She loves their writing sessions at Bluebird, just the two of them tucked in a booth once all the customers have gone home and the last performer has packed up. Diggle is usually in his office, going over the day’s numbers and looking over the next week’s schedule, but he always lets them know when he’s heading out and trusts Felicity to lock up for the night.

Felicity has always felt vulnerable when she shares her music, at first with her mom and then with the world. It’s hard, to capture your feelings and expect the audience to understand exactly what she’s trying to say with music. But Oliver gets it, matching chords and rhythms to her lyrics in a way no one else ever has. Part of her knows that he grew up around country music, that he was probably singing before he could talk. But he’s just so good, a bundle of raw talent wrapped in his family’s expectations.

She takes a deep breath, looking slightly above his head when she says “I don’t think you’re happy when you perform.”

“That isn’t a question.”

She lowers her gaze and makes eye contact with him, praying that she won’t start babbling and ruin this delicate moment between them. “When I’m on stage, it feels like I’m full of fireworks, in a good way. Like I’m going to explode if I don’t sing. It’s special, and even when I’m performing the saddest songs I know, I still feel happy. I want to know if you feel that too. Because sometimes you seem like you’re a million miles away when you’re up there, and I want to know why. 

Oliver uncrosses his arms and reaches one of his hands across the table, resting it gently on one of her clenched fists. “Thank you for saying that, Felicity. Truly. I don’t have the easiest time opening up to people, but I do want to share my history with you. Not all at once, but eventually. Is that ok?”

Felicity nods, “Of course. However long it takes, I’m here.”

He smiles, and she unclenches her fist so that they can weave their fingers together.

(That night, she writes her first song about him. It isn’t a grand gesture of romance, but rather an overture of friendship. He swears, years later, that he knew he was in love with her before she even started singing the chorus.)

_Hold tight to your umbrella, cause darling I’m just trying to tell ya, that there’s always been a rainbow hanging over your head._

*

Two weeks after she meets him, Felicity begins to question why Oliver hasn’t left town yet.

“I mean, Vegas isn’t exactly Star City, you know? I mean, sure, we have the Bellagio and many, _many_ Elvises, but don’t you miss your friends and family?”

Oliver is tuning his guitar, a relatively un-flashy acoustic instrument that he affectionately calls Robin, and snorts derisively. “Trust me, if you knew what Star City was really like you’d run away too. Besides, I came out here to learn, to see what’s new in the country community.”

Felicity finishes scribbling down a potential lyric before setting her pen down and levelling him with a stern look. “The _country community_? This place isn’t exactly Nashville; if you wanted to get closer to the heart of the industry you really should have gone there.”

“But Nashville doesn’t have the Bluebird Café,” he retorts, plucking at a few of Robin’s strings, “or cute blondes.”

“I dye it, actually. But don’t distract me with compliments! What’s really keeping you here?”

Oliver sighs, putting his guitar down on the bench beside him and running a hand through his hair. “Things were… not great when I left Star City. My management is pushing for another tour and my parents keep harping on me to do more to extend their legacy and I’m just, I’m _tired_. Coming out here, being with you and Dig, it takes away the pressure of being Oliver Queen, son of Robert and Moira. I can just be me." 

Felicity nods, extending her hand across the table to intertwine their fingers. She doesn’t really know how she got here, casually holding hands with Oliver Queen while they discuss his personal troubles, but she won’t complain. They’ve become friends in the weeks he’s been here and there’s a spark of something _more_ sizzling under the surface, but she’s reluctant to address it. Like, at all.

“I understand, I really do. I mean, not the pressure of having to do world tours with screaming fans, or what it’s like to have literal industry royalty as parents and oh God that does sound stressful, how do you do this?”

He laughs then, a brilliant smile spreading across his face as he squeezes her fingers. And suddenly Felicity realizes that this is why she hasn’t acted on the spark she knows they both feel. Because she can’t wreck this, the friendship that they’ve built on sheer admiration and mutual respect, not when he’s working so hard to forge his own path.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I knew you would understand.” Then he moves his arm, bringing their joined hands up to his lips, kissing her fingers.

Oh she is so fracking screwed.

* 

Eventually, Diggle is able to wear Oliver down and get him to commit to doing a show at the Bluebird. It’s exclusive, with tickets being sold through a raffle in order to keep the café from being swarmed by Oliver Queen fans. When Felicity jokingly asks if she’ll be able get a ticket, Oliver shakes his head and lets out a quiet laugh. “Front row seat, of course. Only the best for my girl.”

She refuses to even think about the implications of that statement. She’s not his girl, but is his friend, who _happens_ to be a girl. And yes, he flirts with her, but that’s just his personality! She’s pretty sure it is, at least, considering he spends most of his time with her and Dig, though he definitely doesn’t act the same with Diggle. Or maybe he does and she just hasn’t caught them holding hands late at night as they work through tricky chord changes in Oliver’s newest songs.

She tells herself to compartmentalize it, that she will address it once his show is over. Maybe.

The day of Oliver’s show arrives with a promise of sunny skies, to everyone’s delight. Felicity plans on heading to the café early, hoping to get most of the audio tech set up well ahead of the sound check scheduled for that evening. She fills a travel mug with coffee, hoping the caffeine will make up for the lack of sleep she got. She runs through a pre-show checklist as she drives across town, fretting incessantly about minor details that could affect Oliver’s performance. 

“Why am I even worried,” she mutters to herself as she locks her car and makes her way into the Bluebird, “he could probably have laryngitis and still sound amazing.”

And he does. The sound check goes swimmingly, as Oliver plays through his set with ease. It’s a mix of his own songs and a few covers, perfectly curated to encompass his changing style. Diggle insists that he add a few “crowd pleasers” to the set, including some of his less sophisticated songs. Felicity can’t help but giggle as she watches Diggle seriously argue that Oliver should sing ‘Body Like a Back Road,’ despite the latters protests. John eventually wins the argument, smiling smugly as Oliver grumbles and begins to play an acoustic version.

By the time the audience starts to arrive, Oliver is pacing in the employee lounge-turned-greenroom while Felicity and Diggle watch quietly. He’s rubbing his fingers together, as if he is fidgeting with an invisible guitar string. Diggle takes a brief look at his phone and stands, moving towards the door.

“It’s time man. See you out there.”

Diggle slaps him on the back as he leaves, and Oliver turns to Felicity, an undecipherable look on his face. She stands and holds her hand out for him to take. “Are you nervous?” she asks, slowly swinging their now joined hands back and forth.

“Yes and no. It’s like riding a bike, no matter how many times you do it there’s still a chance you could fall,” he answers, moving closer to her. He raises the hand that isn’t holding hers, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

Felicity squeezes his fingers before letting his hand drop. “You won’t fall. I promise.”

Oliver smiles before turning towards the door, squaring his shoulders as he heads onto the stage.

For all his anxieties, Oliver is a magnificent performer. It’s different from his usual shows; it is significantly simpler, just a man and his guitar. But it works, highlights the emotion in his performance and the power of his vocals. He even includes a sweet cover of one of his mom’s songs, joking with the audience that he hears this particular song most often when his dad sings it in the shower.

Felicity knows the show is coming to the end, since she helped him painstakingly put the set together earlier that week, when he starts talking. Specifically, talking about her.

“I’m gonna need a little help with this next song. Now, what y’all don’t know is that I didn’t put this little performance together all by myself. And my partner, well, she’s a bit shy and I’d really like to sing this last song with her. Can y’all help me get Felicity up here?”

She’s dreaming, she has to be. There’s no way this is her real life, no way Oliver _fracking_ Queen is asking her to perform with him. She starts shaking her head, hoping she can quietly sneak out the back, when Dig, the traitor, pushes her towards the stage. Oliver is smiling widely, waving briefly before beginning to pluck at his guitar strings.

“There she is! I know you know this one, honey, jump in when you’re ready.” 

Miraculously, there’s a second microphone being moved onto the stage by one of the stagehands, and she internally vows to ruin the credit scores of everyone involved in this stunt. But then Oliver is crooning a classic Shania song, one of her favourites, and god, she might actually swoon. She clutches the mic in front of her like a lifeline before joining in on the chorus. His voice fades out as they start the second verse, but she can see his eyes shining as he plays guitar along with her.

As the song comes to an end, Oliver pivots so he’s facing her directly, somehow still singing into the microphone. Felicity mimics his position and he leans in, resting his forehead against hers as they sing the final lines together. “ _So glad we made it, look how far we’ve come my baby_.”

Oliver plays the final chords, still forehead-to-forehead with her, with a blinding smile on his face as he stares into her eyes. The song ends and he moves languidly, kissing her forehead before he turns back to the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Felicity Smoak!” The audience is roaring and her heart is beating a million times faster than normal. This is like nothing Felicity has ever experienced and she’s pretty sure it shows, because Oliver slings his guitar across his back and wraps an arm around her waist, leading her offstage and murmuring in her ear.

“You’re incredible. Thank you. _Thank you_.”

*

The next hours are a blur. All Felicity knows is she somehow got home and into her cosiest pajamas before completely passing out.  She wakes up at 11 the next morning, disoriented and still somewhat overwhelmed.

She sang with Oliver Queen. A romantic song, like _really_ romantic. She knows people who got married and used that song for their first dance. How is this her life?

Felicity rolls over, glad to see that she had the foresight to plug her phone in last night. She presses the home button and sees that she has at least a dozen missed calls and more than twenty unread texts. Which is unusual, to say the least. She opens the most recent contact in her messages and is immediately inundated with texts from her mother.

**FROM: mom**

BABY

**FROM: mom**

HOW DID YOU NOT TELL ME YOU KNOW OLIVER QUEEN???? WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN???

**FROM: mom**

You 2 look so cute together!!!! Maybe I’ll have grandbabies after all LOL :-P

Most of the messages are along the same vein, though none are as… enthusiastic as her mothers. It isn’t until she reads her friend Barry’s message that she realizes how everyone suddenly knows about her connection to Oliver.

**FROM: barry**

_https:\\\www.youtube.com\watch?v=2LYU2MhSgnw_ you sound great, smoak!

Dear lord, she's gone viral.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music used in this chapter:  
> Dumb Blonde - Dolly Parton (as sung by Donna Smoak)  
> Silver Lining - Kacey Musgraves (this is what Felicity sings at the end of her set)  
> Rainbow - Kacey Musgraves (the song Felicity writes about Oliver, which will be featured again later)  
> You're Still the One - Shania Twain (the Harry Styles/Kacey Musgraves cover is the arrangement Oliver and Felicity sing)  
> Bonus! Body Like a Back Road - Sam Hunt, which I imagine is the cheesy kind of country music Oliver usually sings.


	2. go your own way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos on the last chapter, it was a great surprise!
> 
> One note about this chapter: in the third section there is mention of a character (who was a minor at the time) using drugs and battling addiction. It is not graphic and the character is ultimately okay and there is discussion of them in recovery, but if that is a difficult topic for any reason, please skip that section! I'll provide info in the end notes if you want context of the character and their role.
> 
> Also, we meet more people in this chapter! Specifically, the Canaries, who I imagine to be a band a la Haim (though not all of them are sisters). 
> 
> Enjoy!

 Felicity kind of blows up on the internet overnight. As someone who has multiple degrees in computer science, she thought she had a pretty good grasp on what makes content go viral. She totally foresaw the success of Vine, okay? So the fact that it’s now her face being circulated on social media is beyond daunting

Also, what if she becomes a meme?

Her and Oliver’s performance is making the rounds on YouTube, Facebook, and, from what her mother’s sent her, a whole host of morning shows. Not just local but _national_ morning shows.

She picks her phone up from where she dropped it out of shock and texts Oliver, who made it clear that he was anti-social media and probably has no clue people had even recorded the performance. 

**TO: oliver**

Not sure if you’ve checked the internet lately, but we’re kind of going viral?

Are you okay with this?

His response is instantaneous.

**FROM: oliver**

Can you meet me @ the café? It’s urgent.

So much for having a quiet Saturday.

*

When Felicity gets to the Bluebird Café, Diggle and Oliver are already there, sitting across from each other with laptops and their cellphones spread across the table. Oliver looks especially stressed, and it makes her heart drop. He was in such a good place when he performed the previous night, telling her after the show that he felt genuinely carefree for the first time in years. And now that’s ruined, thanks to a couple fans with camera-phones.

She walks over to the duo, trying to figure out how to best approach the situation. “Oliver, I am so sorry. I knew we shouldn’t have let people keep their phones; we should have confiscated them at the door. You wanted it to be a quiet show but now it’s all over the internet and the news, it’s my fault—“

“Hey, honey, no, it’s not your fault,” Oliver interrupts her, reaching a hand out to tangle their fingers together. “It’s nobody’s fault, it just happened. All that matters now is how we deal with it.”

Diggle nods in agreement, and Felicity can feel herself relax, sliding into the booth beside Oliver. “The kid is right, you two didn’t do anything except sing. There’s no harm in that.”

“I know, but Oliver wanted to work in peace. He can’t really do that now, not when his face is all over Twitter. What do we do now?”

Oliver runs his free hand over his face, gripping her fingers even tighter. “I’ve been on the phone with my management all morning. They have a lot of ideas, but most of them involve things like stadium shows and talk show circuits, and I just, I can’t. I can’t do that again. Not right now.”

Felicity knows exactly why he doesn’t want to strike it big again, and exchanges a look with Diggle to confirm that he knows too. Over the past few weeks that Oliver’s been frequenting the Bluebird, he’s shared a fair amount about his life, his career, and, most importantly, his family. His parents are legends in the country world, a dynamic duo known for romantic ballads as well as a tumultuous private life. The rumours of Moira and Robert’s marriage being on the rocks have existed for as long as Felicity can remember, with Oliver and his sister often being dragged into the trashy tabloid fodder. Tragically, within the last year, Thea had become the most popular Queen to report on.

* 

One of the first things Felicity learned about Oliver was how much he loves his little sister. 

“Thea never wanted to be part of this life. I remember when she was little, maybe five or six, and she cried every time she saw a camera. I guess I was used to it, or I never really cared, but she hated it. I made it a game for us; we would plan ways to sneak in and out of the house without paparazzi spotting us. She actually convinced me to carry her out of the house in a cardboard box once, so we could go to the movies.”

When Oliver left for his first solo tour, he was twenty-two and she was twelve. He moved back to Starling when he was twenty-six and Thea had become a withdrawn and sullen sixteen year old, left alone with constantly fighting parents for four years.

“I felt awful, while I was out partying and doing whatever I wanted, my little sister was alone with my parents. She fell in with the wrong crowd, and she turned to… other methods of coping. Drugs mostly. Vertigo, stuff like that. She uh, she overdosed when she was seventeen. I was in Nashville when it happened and she had the hospital call me, instead of my parents.”

Felicity distinctly remembers everything about the day Oliver told her about Thea. It was a Tuesday, before the café opened. He had brought coffee and croissants to their writing session and they finalized a tricky tempo change in one of his songs. But most importantly, she remembers the look on his face as he shared his little sister’s struggles and how he told her that he shouldered most of the blame.

“If I hadn’t left, if I hadn’t been so god damn self centred and returned home once in a while, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. I could’ve saved my baby sister.”

*

Dig looks at Oliver and folds his hands together on the table. “Man, this decision is all up to you. You can say nothing and do nothing, but you know that will only make them hound you more.”

Oliver nods, biting at his lip as he tries to compose himself. “I can’t become that guy again, Dig. What if something happens to Thea, or I lose myself in the lifestyle? I don’t think I would come out of it whole.” His breath hitches, and Felicity can see tears building up in his eyes. She reaches towards his face and wipes away the single tear that rolls down his cheek.

“What if Thea went with you? That way you know you aren’t leaving her and the two of you can spend more time together,” suggests Diggle.

“I don’t know, she still sees her therapist every week and has just gotten used to staying with Raisa, I don’t want to tear her away from that routine. And the road is no place for an eighteen year old.” Felicity can tell that Oliver is trying to remain composed, but the more he discusses his sister’s circumstances the more upset he gets.

“I could go with you,” she murmurs, untangling her fingers from his to rest her hand on his arm. “I mean, I wouldn’t perform or anything, I can’t see your manager liking that. People buy tickets to see Oliver Queen, not Oliver Queen-and-some girl, right? But I could be there and help you write music, like we do here, just at a different location. Obviously.” 

As she finishes rambling Oliver allows the tears he was holding back to fall, and she immediately regrets offering. “Oh god, I didn’t mean to upset you more. I’m so so—”

“You would do that for me?”

“Of course. That’s what friends are for. Would your management be okay with that?”

Oliver wipes his face with the sleeve of his shirt, as if wiping away the remains of his tears will clear his mind. “That’s the best part of being a superstar, honey. Management does whatever I want.”

*

to: lmichaels@argusrecords.com

from: walter@merlynmusic.com

cc: oliver@merlynmusic.com

re: tour arrangements

Ms. Michaels,

I think having Oliver open for the Canaries on their tour is a wonderful idea. My client is excited to reunite with the girls and to have the opportunity to tour with them. Attached are basic accommodation requests for Oliver and his guest, please forward further contracts and other requests to this email.

Walter Steele

Executive Manager, Merlyn Music

 *

Just like that, Felicity finds herself packing to go on tour. Oliver’s manager, Walter, is a gem. He worked with the three of them to accommodate Oliver’s request to go on tour as an opening act, rather than the main performer. He also didn’t question that Oliver apparently wanted to bring a guest on tour, instead he just forwarded her some insurance forms and asked if she had any food preferences for the green rooms. 

She and Diggle had worked with Oliver to plan a tentative set list for him to perform, a short but sweet selection of songs that work for the ‘New Oliver.’ He is adamant about leaving his more womanizing songs behind, giving Diggle a stern look when he suggests he revisit the acoustic version of “Body Like a Back Road” again.

The tour is set to begin in Des Moines, but Felicity and Oliver leave Vegas a week before the official start date to meet up with the Canaries and get in a bit of rehearsal before they actually go on the road. Diggle volunteers to drive them to the airport the morning of their flight and Felicity finds herself extremely emotional at the thought of leaving her friend behind.

Diggle drives them to their terminal and helps unload their various bags from the car before moving to hug Felicity. “Take care of yourself, kiddo. Don’t forget where you came from." 

“Oh Dig,” Felicity sniffles, “I could never forget about you. Thank you, for everything. Keep me updated on how things are going at the café, and don’t let Curtis mess with any of my programs! I’m serious, those babies took months to perfect.” 

Diggle laughs, releasing Felicity from his arms and moving to hug Oliver. “I would never.”

Felicity watches the two men hug, Diggle saying something under his breath that makes Oliver blush. It doesn’t seem real, that she’s leaving Vegas less than a year after she moved home, but it feels like the right move. 

Oliver and Diggle break apart and she attempts to help Oliver sort out their pile of luggage. Once they have their respective bags in hand, Dig gets back into his car, yelling at them as he pulls away from the curb. “Make good choices!”

She can feel herself blushing as Oliver laughs quietly before extending his free hand towards her. “You ready?” She takes his hand in hers, squeezing his fingers gently.

“Let’s do this.”

*

The Canaries are based in Chicago, so by the time they reach their hotel for the week Felicity is a little disoriented by the time change and more than a little hungry. Overall, not a great mood to be in when you’re meeting the people you’re touring around the country with for the next six weeks. Oliver thinks it’s cute, apparently, and tells her repeatedly that “the girls” won’t care that she smells like recycled air from the plane.

They drop their bags off in their suite, which is more like a mini-apartment. There are two bedrooms, a bathroom with a huge soaking tub and a standing shower, and a full-sized kitchen. It’s bigger than the apartment Felicity and her mom shared when she was growing up. She’s considering whether or not she wants to fully unpack her bags when Oliver pops his head into her room.

“Hey, I made some grilled cheese sandwiches, I know you wanted to grab a bite to eat before we met up with the girls.”

As if on a cue, Felicity’s stomach grumbles loudly and she follows Oliver into the kitchen, where he has sandwiches sitting on two plates beside the stove. She reaches for a plate and lifts herself up onto the counter before taking a bite. “This is delicious, oh my god. Is this what being on tour is like? Because I imagined fewer sandwiches and more alcohol. Also glitter.”

Oliver chuckles, leaning against the counter beside her before he reaches for his own plate. “This is how I tour. At least, how I tour _now_. After everything with Thea, when she had just finished rehab, she came to stay with me in Star City for a while. She wanted to come home, without having to stay with our parents. We had a lot of time on our hands and we decided that despite being, uh, _well off_ , we didn’t want to be the kind of people who can’t fend for themselves. So we learned how to cook. Well, I learned. Thea mostly watched and provided commentary. When Walter reached out about me going on tour and asked if I had any requests, I asked if he could have each hotel room stocked with groceries, so I could cook for us. For you.”

Felicity is pretty much shell-shocked. She’s come along with Oliver in order to support him and help him work on the new music he’s developing. It’s any musicians dream come true and in addition he wants to cook for her? She must be in the Twilight Zone or something, because there’s no way this is real life.

Oliver seems to be almost bashful after sharing his secret, so Felicity sets down the plate she was holding and reaches her hands out to cup his face. “You, Oliver Queen, surprise me more and more every day.”

He moves his head slightly, turning it in her hands so that he can place a kiss on her palm. “You are the surprising one. I don’t know many people who would give up their life to tag along on a tour like this. You are remarkable.”

She reaches for his hand, wiggling her fingers slightly until he realizes what she wants. He raises his hand so that she can grab it, lifting his palm to her own lips and pressing a gentle kiss to the middle of it. “Thank you for remarking on it.” A beat passes, Oliver playing gently with her fingers where their hands are intertwined, both of them basking in the intimacy of the moment. “Can we go meet the Canaries now? I have so many questions for them.”

 *

A driver picks Oliver and Felicity up outside of their hotel, a kind older woman named Marie who takes the time to point out some of the city’s landmarks as they make their way to the Canaries rehearsal space. They pass countless museums and skyscrapers, catching glimpses of the famous Bean sculpture and the many tourists attempting to take pictures with it. They drive into the heart of the city and Marie pulls up beside a non-descript office building, getting out of the car to open the door for the duo.

“Are you sure this is it? This seems a little… corporate, don’t you think?”

Oliver laughs, picking up his guitar case and wrapping his arm around Felicity’s waist to lead her into the building. “Trust me, these girls are anything but corporate.”

They take an elevator up ten floors, arriving in a sleek foyer with signage reading ‘ARGUS Records.’ There are multiple hallways leading towards offices and, from what Felicity can see, soundproofed studios. Still, she’s hesitant to step away from Oliver in order to see more. This is his world, his domain; she’s here as a collaborator and friend, not an artist. She’ll follow his lead, she’s decided, no matter how exciting some of the equipment at ARGUS appears to be.

 “Ollie!” A blur of blonde appears from one of the closest studios, throwing herself towards Oliver in an attempt to wrap him up in a hug. Oliver lets go of his guitar case so that he can grab the blonde in a one-armed hug, his other arm still wrapped around Felicity’s waist.

“Nice to see you too, Sara. This is my friend, Felicity Smoak.”

Sara disengages herself from Oliver before turning towards Felicity with a mischievous look. “Oh, she’s cute Ollie. What’s she doing with your sorry ass?”

He laughs, shrugging. “Kind of wondering that myself.”

“He makes a great grilled cheese,” Felicity blurts out. “He’s really talented in the kitchen. I mean, he’s talented in other ways too, obviously you know that, what with the singing and playing instruments, and his  _hands._ Wait, not like that.”

Of course she’d find a way to embarrass herself within a minute of meeting Sara Lance, arguably one of the most talented female drummers of all time. To her credit, Sara mostly just seems amused. “You’re fun, I like you. Let’s go meet the others, I know they’re dying to hear how you got yourself into this mess, Ollie.” 

The trio make their way down a short hallway, ending up in a practice room and holy shit, that’s Laurel Lance. She’s got her head slightly bowed as she scribbles in a notebook but it’s definitely her. On the other side of the room is Dinah Drake, who offers Felicity a small wave when she hears them enter the room.

“Look who I found,” Sara says in a singsong voice, throwing herself down on the couch beside her sister.

Laurel looks up from her notebook and smiles softly before standing to wrap Oliver in a hug. “Ollie, you’re here! Tommy will be so excited, he’s just run out to grab some dinner for us. You must be Felicity?”

“You’re gorgeous,” Felicity blurts out. “Sorry, that was weird. You know you’re beautiful, I don’t need to tell you that. I’m Felicity, I’m a big fan, your chord progressions on ‘Make You Cry’ are stellar.” She turns to Oliver, who is chuckling lightly beside her. “You could’ve told me to stop talking any at point.”

“I wouldn’t do that. I want to hear everything you have to say,” Oliver murmurs, causing Sara to start making fake-vomiting noises.

“That was cheesy as hell, man. I can see why the world is so obsessed with the two of you,” Dinah pipes up from the other side of the room.

“Alright, let’s stop harassing these two. They just flew halfway across the country to open for us, show them so respect,” says Laurel as she sits back down on the couch. “Do you guys want to show us a bit of what you’ve got planned while we wait for Tommy to get back?”

“Um, what do you mean _us_? Oliver’s the one opening for you, I’m just the emotional support human.” Felicity is a little dazed, because no one mentioned she was going onstage. She was just along for the ride, to help out a friend.

“Aren’t you guys a thing? We all saw the video, I assumed you guys had partnered up, in all senses of the word,” says Sara, raising her eyebrows in a way that makes Felicity blush.

“Hey, no, Felicity is here as a favour to me. If she doesn’t want to perform, she won’t,” Oliver states, looking firmly in Sara’s direction.

“Actually, we think the audience will be more receptive to Oliver if he were to perform with a woman. It makes him seem more approachable, plus having a single man open for the Canaries doesn’t really contribute to the anti-patriarchy messaging we’ve been pushing.” A woman with short hair and impressively high heels enters the practice room, and Felicity feels intimidated just looking at her.

“Oliver, Felicity, this is Lyla Michaels, our manager.” Laurel says, looking at Oliver as if she’s expecting him to immediately challenge Lyla’s statement. Instead, he reaches out to shake the manager’s hand, prompting Felicity to do the same.

“Ok, I understand where you’re coming from. But couldn’t Laurel or Dinah just join me for a song or two?”

“They could,” Lyla begins, “but your management is the one who originally suggested Felicity perform with you. Mr. Merlyn emailed me directly, I assumed you already knew?" 

Oliver swears under his breath, which just confuses Felicity further. She grabs his hand and mutters to the others that they will be right back before pulling him into the hallway. Once they have some semblance of privacy, the questions spill out of her.

“What is happening? Who is Mr. Merlyn? Why wouldn’t Walter know about this, don’t I need to fill out paperwork or something? Seriously, did you even read your contract?”

Despite her epic level of confusion, she knows that this entire situation is still stressful for Oliver. She takes a deep breath and squeezes his fingers. “Are you okay with all of this?” 

He nods slightly, running his free hand through his hair. “Malcolm Merlyn owns the record company that produces my music. Both of my parents signed with him when he first started in the business and he’s essentially owned the rights to my music since I was born. He probably saw the video and decided this was another way to make money off of me.

“You don’t have to do this, Felicity. He owns me, not you. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Because I love performing with you, you know I do, but I don’t want you near him. You deserve better.”

This man. Felicity has been a fan of his for years, but in these moments when he shows her his heart, she finds herself falling deeply for him. 

“You deserve better too, Oliver. And if performing with me will get Mr. Merlyn off of your back, then I’m in.” She knows this is a crazy decision, but it’s the easiest choice she’s ever made.

He looks at her, a grin spreading across his face. “Are you sure?”

As soon as Felicity nods yes, he’s scooped her into his arms in joy. She can feel him laughing, making her giggle in turn. She never realized quite how big he was until now, her legs hanging loose in the air as he hugs her tightly.

When Oliver lets her down, he pulls her in close, resting his forehead against hers the way he did when they first sang together. “Let’s go on tour, honey.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The character mentioned in the third section (if you skipped that part for any reason) is Thea Queen, who battles addiction canonically and in this fic. As is mentioned in other paragraphs, she is in recovery (through rehab and therapy) and she'll play a larger role in later chapters. This is about as angsty as the story will get, so it's all up from here!
> 
> Also, Oliver and Diggle should be allowed to hug more in canon and Walter Steele deserved better.


	3. i'm alright with a slow burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and Oliver join the Canaries on tour, but it's not all smooth sailing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back!!! we're on tour!!!
> 
> i officially passed 10k words with this chapter, making this the longest thing i've EVER written. i've written more for this AU than i typically write in a semester for school, how wild is that.
> 
> a lot of stuff happens in this chapter, even though it is significantly shorter than others. just a note: i do make mention of laurel's canon addiction issues, so if that is something that is potentially uncomfortable to read, i suggest skipping the girls night section.
> 
> also, there are some bonus social media things at the bottom! i was inspired by @inlovewithimpossibility, who includes beautiful images and fun fake social media posts in her work (i'm in love with "and we're somehow caught up in a web of lies," fake dating that turns into real dating is my JAM). the template i used is from  here ! i also don't own any of the images i used, i got them off of pinterest.

Since arriving in Chicago, Felicity and Oliver worked overtime to create a set list that plays to both of their strengths. They feature Oliver’s songs, old and new, pretty heavily, knowing that fans will want to hear mainly his music. But Oliver insists that they sing at least one of her songs.

“You’re so talented, I want to share that with the world,” he’d told her as they shared a late dinner in the ARGUS practice room they’d commandeered. She pushes back a little, until it becomes obvious that Oliver will not budge on this particular request.

“Fine, we can do Silver Lining. It will work for both of us, vocally, and it should fit in well before Here I Go Again, don’t you think?” He agrees with her, thankfully.

Tommy pops in at that point, brandishing a box of pizza and a wide grin. “I think he would agree to just about anything you say, Ms. Smoak. I’ve never seen him so whipped bef—” he’s cut off abruptly when Oliver throws a nearby pencil at him, though both boys are smiling still.

Felicity learned quickly that Tommy was one of Oliver’s oldest and closest friends, having grown up with him and the Lance sisters in Star City. He also happens to be Malcolm Merlyn’s son, though he’d become estranged from his father when he refused to take a position at the family record company, choosing instead to go to school for medicine. When the Canaries aren’t touring, he and Laurel have a permanent home in Chicago, close to the hospital where Tommy works as a pediatrician.

“Oh I know that, Mr. Merlyn. How else do you think I’ve convinced him to get us Shake Shack for dinner twice this week?” Oliver blushes at her words, muttering something about intuitive eating as Tommy laughs out loud.

“Laugh all you want, but we all know you waited in line for an hour to get Laurel that pizza from Giovanni’s,” Oliver tells Tommy pointedly.

The darker-haired man shrugs, before turning on his heel and making his way out of the room. “What the missus wants, she gets. You’ll learn that soon, young padawan.”

*

The night before they are set to leave for Des Moines, the Canaries kick Oliver out of his and Felicity’s shared hotel suite in the name of Girls Night. He doesn’t seem entirely put out, dropping a kiss on Felicity’s head before telling them he’ll meet up with Tommy and return later.

Dinah is armed with at least a dozen facemasks and the band’s signature nail polish, a shimmery black aptly named Black Canary. She starts doing Felicity’s nails while Laurel pours everyone glasses of sparkling cider.

“It’s our pre-tour tradition, to do our nails and eat junk food the night before we leave. We haven’t had another girl tour with us in ages, so we figured we would initiate you!” Sara throws herself onto the couch, cuddling up to Laurel as she sips her cider.

“We used to do wine,” Dinah remarks, “but after everything that happened in 2013 we all decided to go sober during tours. Canary solidarity, you know?”

She’s referring to Laurel’s time in rehab, Felicity knows. It’s an open secret in the industry, that the oldest of the Canaries had issues with addiction during the promotion of their second album. Looking at Laurel, she can’t help but feel pride for her friend. She doesn’t shy away from her past, often appearing at charity events to raise awareness for youth experiencing alcohol and drug addiction. Oliver had mentioned that Laurel played a big role in Thea’s recovery process.

“Well, I am honoured that you guys wanted to include me. I’m so excited, but also, like crazy nervous. What if I forget the words? Has anyone ever puked onstage before? Oh god, what if I forget the words _because_ I throw up onstage?” 

Dinah squeezes Felicity’s hand as she continues to paint her nails and Laurel reaches out to rub comforting circles between her shoulder blades. “You’re going to do great,” Sara says from where she’s fully reclined on the couch, “besides, you’ll have Ollie up there with you the entire time.”

Felicity turns her head to look at Sara. “I know, I just don’t want to be a burden for him. I originally came with him to help him with his music and to be a supportive friend, not embarrass him onstage.”

Laurel snorts. “Ollie has embarrassed himself onstage enough times to ever judge you for messing up. Did you know he had a phase where he performed his entire concert in assless chaps and a cowhide vest? _That_ was embarrassing.”

“Plus,” Dinah adds, finishing the nails on Felicity’s left hand before beginning with the right, “you’re an amazing musician. Did you seriously never have formal guitar lessons?” 

“No, actually, all self taught. Music just made sense to me, especially instruments, they’re like computers. There’s a right and a wrong way to do everything, so I tried everything until I found what sounded right.” Felicity blows lightly on her finished nails, grinning when Sara moans from her spot on the couch.

 “It’s not fair, I want to be good at things with minimal effort. Teach me your ways.”

* 

They’re a month into the tour when the unthinkable happens.

Oliver and Felicity are halfway through their set in Boston and it couldn’t be going smoother. They’ve found their groove as partners and musicians, and they feel like they’re getting better with every show they play.

They’re finishing up a Dolly Parton cover when a stage hand flickers a green-tinted flashlight three times from the wings, and out of the corner of her eye Felicity sees Oliver bolt offstage. 

Three flickers of a flashlight is their code for “Thea.” Felicity feels her heart stop briefly, because she knows Oliver will be devastated if anything were to happen to his sister. She’s talked to Thea a few times as well, including a memorable occasion when she showed off Oliver’s baby pictures over Skype, and she can’t help but feel affection for her.

She’s about to follow Oliver offstage, assuming that they will just cut their set short because of Thea’s emergency when she hears someone in the crowd yell out to her.

“Keep going!”

Felicity is about 99% sure its Sara who first yelled out, but the rest of the audience is cheering and crying out more encouragement. She laughs lightly and starts idly strumming on her guitar.

 “Boston, you’re just as pushy as I remember. How about I play you a little tune that I like to call My House.”

She dives headfirst into the song, dancing along as she sings out the cheery lyrics. The crowd doesn’t know the lyrics, but that doesn’t stop them from clapping along with enthusiasm.

_So come on hitch your wagon, to the living room I’m draggin’, if I can’t bring you to my house I’ll bring my house to you!_

She plays a few more covers, including a cheeky version of Oliver’s song ‘Cruise,’ which drives the crowd crazy. By the time she sees the Canaries getting ready to come onstage, she’s full of adrenaline and high on the energy of the audience. She stumbles offstage, letting Laurel pull her into a tight hug.

“Did I seriously just do that?” she asks breathlessly as Laurel releases her, turning to look at Sara, who is grinning from ear to ear.

“Hell yeah you did, and you sounded awesome! Why haven’t we made you a Canary yet?” She laughs breathlessly as the trio are ushered onstage, gratefully accepting a bottle of water from one of the stagehands

She just played a sold out stadium by herself, technically. She seriously needs to call her mom.

*

“Ollie I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were onstage, I didn’t want Raisa to bother you.”

“Speedy, I want Raisa to call me when you feel like this. You had a panic attack, I want to know that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, really, therapy was just rough today. We, we talked about mom and dad and I didn’t think it would be that hard.”

“It’s ok, Thea, you don’t have to explain anything. I’m so proud of you, you know that?”

*

Felicity makes her way back to the greenroom she’s sharing with Oliver, hoping that he’s feeling up to telling her what happened with Thea. She finds him sitting on the couch, legs stretched out so that he can rest his feet on a nearby coffee table. He looks up from where he’s resting his head in his hands when she opens the door; a tired smile spreads across his face when he realizes it’s her.

“Hey,” she whispers, closing the door quietly behind her. “How is everything?”

Oliver runs a hand through his hair, sighing gently. “Thea had a tough day, her therapy session hit her pretty hard. She ended up having a panic attack, that’s why Raisa called. Speedy’s gonna be just fine though.”

Felicity moves to sit beside him, kicking off her shoes. There are production people who take care of her guitar when she gets offstage now, but this small part of her post-show ritual is just as comforting as it was when she was performing at the Bluebird Café. She tucks her feet underneath her before leaning her head against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry she had a rough day, is there anything I can do to help?”

Oliver shakes his head, moving to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Not right now. Maybe you can call her tomorrow, cheer her up with some girl talk. 

“Or I could send her the pictures I took of you sleeping on the bus last week,” she tells him cheekily. “I think those would cheer her up.”

He barks out a laugh and she can feel his posture relax slightly. “I knew I never should have introduced the two of you.” He turns slightly to look at her, his face growing serious. “I’m sorry I left you up there, you came on this tour as a favour to me and then I abandoned you. It won’t happen again. Did they call for an intermission?”

Felicity can feel herself biting back a smile as she lifts her head off of his shoulder. “Uh, no actually. I stayed on stage, the audience told me to keep singing, so I did.”

 Oliver’s face splits into a bright grin. “Did you really? Oh my god, I can’t believe I missed it. Do you think the tech guys got video of it, I bet Cisco would, he’s great with that stuff.”

“You aren’t mad that I essentially highjacked your set?” she asks, trying not to blush at his enthusiasm.

He moves again, this time raising his hands to hold her face gently. Felicity can feel her heart speed up as he moves his head towards hers, closing her eyes as his lips brush against hers before kissing her firmly. She moves her head gently, trying to find a better angle while also deepening the kiss. Her hands fist in the henley he’s wearing and she can feel his heart beating, a staccato rhythm that closely matches her own.

When they finally break apart, he rests his forehead against hers and looks deeply into her eyes. “Felicity Smoak, you are a force to be reckoned with. And I can’t wait to watch you shine.”

He’s so earnest that she can’t help but pull away to get a better look at him. There’s a light blush making its way across his cheeks, one that _she_ put there.  She sinks into him, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you for bringing me on tour,” she murmurs, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful silence that surrounds them.

Oliver shifts on the couch, pulling her firmly against him before dropping a fleeting kiss on her hairline. “My pleasure, baby.”

*

@OliverJQueen: Hello Internet. Does anyone happen to have video of @fsmoak opening for the Canaries last night? #CanariesInBoston #Help

@canariescrying: @OliverJQueen i do!!!! ur girl killed it, i can dm them to you

@OliverJQueen: @canariescrying I’ve sent you a message.

~

@canariescrying: guys i’m literally shaking oliver queen just venmoed me $200 for sending him videos of his gf or w/e singing last night skskshdskdskjf

 @canariescrying: i want to add that i DIDN’T ask him to pay me (lmao how wild would that be) and i guess he saw my venmo in my bio??? rent is due so im not questioning it

 @canariescrying: does he not know youtube is FREE

*

 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs mentioned:  
> silver lining - kacey musgraves  
> here i go again - dolly parton  
> my house - kacey musgraves  
> cruise - florida georgia line
> 
> see you next time!


	4. interlude: puppy love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thea gets a cat, Felicity gets jealous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't necessarily a chapter-chapter because there's literally no plot besides felicity desperately wanting a puppy. it's self-indulgent fluff because i had a bad day. also i really just wanted to involve thea more in the story because i miss her on the show. enjoy!!!
> 
> also the tour group chat names might be confusing but they made me laugh:  
> yeehaw princess - felicity  
> yung canary - sara  
> pretty bird - laurel  
> drake with no josh - dinah

from: speedy  
[coconut.jpg]

from: ollie  
What is that?

from: speedy  
she’s my cat duh

from: ollie  
Call me.

_[Incoming call from ‘Speedy’]_

“Thea Dearden Queen, what are you doing with that cat?”

“Well good morning to you too, big brother. I’m doing great, thanks for asking.”

“ _Thea_.”

“Listen, it’s not my fault! After therapy yesterday Raisa and I went to one of those cat café’s, you know, where you can drink coffee and play with cats? And Coconut liked me, like a lot, and you know Dr. Myers has been talking about me taking more responsibility in day-to-day life so I thought… why not adopt a cat?”

“I think she meant taking responsibility for small things, like buying groceries once in a while, not adopting a living being!”

“Woah, calm down. Coconut is totally chill, I think you’re really gonna like her. She’s like you, but less grumpy.”

“Thea, I really don’t think this is a good idea…”

“Yeah, yeah I know. Hey, is Felicity there? Put her on, I want to tell her she’s gonna be a cat aunt!”

"Honey, Thea wants to talk to you."

“Hey Thea, what’s up?”

“I got a cat!”

“Oh my god! What’s their name? Send pictures please, being on tour is a surprisingly fluff-free situation. You would think touring with a group called the Canaries would invite the presence of birds or something, but apparently the bus is a bird-free zone. Do you think we could get a cat for the bus?”

“Do you really want to have a litter box in an enclosed space like that?”

“Good point… what about a puppy?”  
  
*  
**group chat: tour bitches**

yeehaw princess: on a scale of 1 to hulk smash, how mad would oliver be if I brought a puppy on the bus

yung canary: can you hear that? it’s the sound of ollie having a complete meltdown over the thought of losing your attention to a dog

pretty bird: ^ true

drake with no josh: tbh i dare you to do it

yeehaw princess: frack he’s staring at me, i think he can tell i’m plotting

*

from: felicity  
oliver

from: Oliver  
No

from: felicity  
you don’t even know what i was going to ask

from: oliver  
Baby  
Sweetheart  
Light of my life  
You have been looking at pictures of puppies for a week straight.  
Your phone background is a pug that’s not even YOURS.  
We can’t get a dog.

from: felicity  
first of all, doug the pug is a national treasure  
second of all, :(

from: oliver  
I know, honey.  
How about this: after soundcheck, we go back to the hotel and I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue.  
And once tour is done we can maybe talk about a dog.

from: felicity  
deal

*

**group chat: tour bitches**

yung canary: did oliver really talk you out of getting a dog

yeehaw princess: yeah big time

drake with no josh: i wouldn't say they TALKED about it

drake with no josh: you know these walls aren't soundproof right?

yeehaw princess: #worthit

*

Oliver walked into his hotel room to find his girlfriend with her head bent over her phone, cooing softly. She’s still dressed from the show, with her heels kicked off near the foot of the bed she’s reclining on.

“What’cha looking at, baby?” She looks up when he speaks, grinning brilliantly.

“I’m facetiming Thea. Well, right now I’m just looking at Coconut, Thea went to grab something to show me.”

Of all the things Felicity has brought into his life, a friendship with his sister is something he didn’t expect. His previous girlfriends never tried to get to know her and most thought she monopolized his attention, but Felicity had made an effort from the beginning. He finds them facetiming frequently and knows they text after every show as part of Felicity’s new post-show routine. It makes his heart soar, knowing that his girlfriend genuinely enjoys her relationship with his sister and he wonders just how close they would grow if they were living in the same city.

Or, his mind supplies, if they shared a last name.

He climbs up onto the bed beside Felicity, wrapping an arm around her shoulder to peer down at the screen. “I guess she is kinda cute.”

Felicity beams up at him, and he finds himself vowing to make her smile like that every day. “I know right. You know what would be even cuter?”

He starts fiddling with the ends of her hair, smiling indulgently. “What, sweetheart?”

“A puppy.”

*

@fsmoak: skyping with our biggest fan before the show! @CanarySara:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	5. the same old storm again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen, i sat down to start this chapter this evening and four hours later i had written 2500 words. i don't know how it happened.
> 
> this chapter is like a 50-50 fluff/angst split. it addresses some of Oliver's issues that have been briefly mentioned in past chapters and is a way of getting Oliver's character arc moving. remember: Oliver didn't just become the green arrow. he had to be the hood and the arrow first, in order to become ~who he truly is~ or at least have a better grasp on his mission. same goes for sweet country boy oliver, who has A LOT of emotions, bless his heart.

They’re doing press for one of the last legs of the tour, including multiple shows in Star City, when Felicity notices that Oliver has begun to deteriorate. It begins with little things, headaches after interviews and avoiding phone calls from Walter. He tenses up slightly every time a reporter asks when they can expect a new album, something Felicity first notices while he’s doing a phone interview with a prominent Central City radio station.

Oliver is hunched over, resting his head in his hands as he talks to the radio station’s DJ over the phone. She slips over to him silently, sitting on the floor by his feet and resting her head on his lap. Immediately one of his hands makes its way into her hair, tangling lightly in the loose curls. When the interview is finally done, Felicity can feel him relax, sinking softly into the couch he’s sitting on.

“Are you okay, baby?” she murmurs, rubbing her hand up and down one of his calves in a way she hopes is soothing.

The hand Oliver has in her hair stills immediately, gently resting on her scalp as he tries to formulate an answer. “I don’t know, to be honest. The pressure of playing to a hometown crowd might be getting to me a bit. I might take a nap before the show.”

 Felicity lifts her head from his lap, and when hand falls limply from her hair she clasps it with her own, lifting his fingers and kissing them softly. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, kay? I know these past few weeks have been a whirlwind, but don’t forget why I came with you in the first place: to _support you_. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, let me know, I’m here to help.”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and Felicity can tell he’s holding back at least a few tears. Slowly, he leans down and kisses her forehead gently, then her cheek, before finally kissing her lips. When he pulls away (much too quick, in Felicity’s opinion), he’s smiling. “What did I do to deserve you?”

 *

The night before their first Star City show, the duo are joined by the Canaries for dinner. They all hole up in Oliver’s apartment for the evening with an army’s worth of Thai food, all of them laughing and sharing stories of past performances. Oliver had been so happy to bring Felicity to the loft with him, to bring her even further into his life, that he hadn’t even noticed how much attention she paid to her phone over the evening.

After they demolished the huge amount of takeout and the girls had left to go back to their hotel, Felicity found herself sitting at the breakfast bar in Oliver’s kitchen, drinking wine as Oliver washed the evening’s dishes.

“Is this how you treat all girls on tour? Wine and dine them the night before the big show to get your stress out?” she asked him coyly, before scrunching her nose. “Wait, does this make me a groupie?”

Oliver chuckled, placing the dish he had been washing on the drying rack before throwing the towel over his shoulder. “Groupies are after the show, honey. Not that that would ever apply to you,” he said, making his way around the counter. He came up behind the stool she was sitting on, wrapping his arms around her waist as he nibbled at her neck. “You’re my partner, and that’s way better than a groupie.”

“Thank god,” she breathed, tilting her head to the side to give him more access to her neck, “because I don’t have the—oh, do that again—the legs to pull off daisy dukes.”

There was a sudden knock on the door, making Oliver groan as he pulled away from her. “Let me get rid of this person and I will be happy to prove you wrong.” He scurried over to the door and Felicity sighed, blissed out but still cognizant enough that she followed him towards the loft’s entranceway, eager to catch his reaction.

Oliver pulled the door open, shock colouring his face as he realized who was behind it.

“Surprise!” yelled Thea, tossing a crumpled handful of confetti in the air before leaping to pull her brother into a hug.

“Speedy, what are you doing, I thought you were in Coast City with Raisa—how did you know I was here?” Oliver clutched his little sister close, wrapping his arms around her tightly as he sputtered his disbelief.

Felicity stepped closer to the hugging siblings, rubbing a gentle hand along Oliver’s back as he let go of Thea. “Surprise,” she whispered softly. He turned around to look at her, shock colouring his face as he realized what had happened.

“Did you plan this?”

“I did. I mean, Thea obviously helped because hello, she’s here, but I wanted to do something to show you how supported you are, because I know playing Star City isn’t your favourite and—” she found herself cut off, as Oliver drew her into a passionate kiss, holding her face in his hands. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling herself closer to him before ending the kiss, murmuring against his mouth. “So are you happy?”

Oliver laughed, dropping a peck on her lips once, then twice. “I am deliriously happy. Thank you. You’re incredible.” He kissed her again, as Thea made quiet gagging noises beside them.

“Ollie, stop hogging her!”

*

The trio relocated to Oliver’s living room, Thea making a beeline for the plush couch before gesturing for Felicity to come sit with her. She lowered herself onto the cushion beside the brunette, stretching slightly to rest her feet on the nearby coffee table. Thea reached into the bag she had brought with her, pulling out a thick bound book. 

“Alright, here you go, Oliver’s baby pictures, as promised.” Thea grinned as she placed the heavy album onto Felicity’s lap, “I highly recommend anything from when he was six, he went through a mullet phase.”

“It was the eighties, everyone had mullets Speedy,” Oliver groaned.

Felicity opens the book, only half listening to the siblings bicker. The first page showed a young Moira Queen in a hospital bed, cradling a small bundle of blankets, along with a series of pictures of what she presumed was newborn Oliver. She stroked her finger along the baby’s cheek, in awe of how tiny her admittedly huge boyfriend had once been. As she flipped through the pages, she couldn’t help but smile at the images in front of her. He was such a happy little baby, she observed, laughing and grinning in almost every picture. It was interesting to compare to the more reserved man she knew, who was reluctant to let loose in fear of not living up to the heavy legacy his parents had created.

One picture left her particularly speechless.

“Oliver, babe, is this you with Dolly Parton?”

He looked over at her, as if it was a casual occurrence for a country legend to appear in someone’s baby photos. “Oh, Aunt Dolly? Probably. She was around a lot when I was little, did some song writing with my mom.” 

“I’m sorry, Aunt Dolly? You call Dolly Parton, my idol, _Aunt Dolly_? You never thought to mention this before? We sing one of her songs every night!”

Oliver grinned at her, reaching out to rest a hand on her knee. “Yeah, I know that. She thinks it’s cute, and she really likes the piano arrangement you did for it.”

Thea, who was smothering her giggles behind one of her hands, added “she texted me about it a couple of weeks ago, she wanted to know if you guys had gotten together yet. Apparently she and Uncle Willie had a bet going.”

Grabbing one of the throw pillows from the end of the couch, Felicity glared at the two Queens before shoving the pillow in her face. “Your lives are ridiculous,” she grumbled.

*

The next morning, Felicity woke up to the smell of coffee wafting into an unfamiliar bedroom. 

_Right, I stayed at Oliver’s place last night. Like, his actual place-place._

Part of her was inclined to stay in bed and see if she could bribe her boyfriend back to bed with more cuddles, but a larger and more caffeine dependent part forced her to get up and start her day. Pulling on Oliver’s t-shirt from the day before, she trudged downstairs while attempting to smooth her hair out of her face.

 She entered the kitchen and stopped suddenly, taking in the view before her. She must have made some form of noise, because Oliver turned from where he was making pancakes shirtless and smiled softly at her. “Hey baby, how’d you sleep?”

 “Mm, good. Would’ve been better if you were there when I woke up,” she mumbled, stepping into his open arms and resting her head on his heart.

 “But then who would have made you coffee?” he gestured towards the counter, where a french press sat full of what she knew to be a rich dark roast. She planted a lazy kiss on his jaw before moving out of his embrace towards the coffee.

 “This is why you’re my favourite tour partner,” Felicity told him, pouring herself a generous mug of coffee and inhaling deeply. She turns back to face him, about to ask if they could switch a song on that night’s set list, when she notices that he’s gone stock still. “Honey what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 Oliver holds up his phone, breathing deeply as he pinches the bridge of his nose, a sign that he’s trying to hold back his emotions. “My uh, my dad texted me. _Good luck tonight, hope it’s a good crowd. Malcolm says you’re behind on new music deadlines, don’t fuck this up_.” Felicity can see his face crumple and immediately puts down her mug before racing to his side, wrapping an arm around his waist as she pulls him towards the couch.

 “Hey, hey, you’re okay. Take a deep breath, Oliver, it’s okay. God, I hope you don’t mind me saying this but your dad kind of sucks. That’s it, keep breathing. You’re doing so good baby, deep breaths.” Oliver’s breathing is erratic, and she’s pretty sure he’s on the edge of a panic attack, so she tries all of the grounding techniques that he’d mentioned when they’d talked about Thea’s anxiety.

 He shudders out a breath, tears rapidly falling down his cheeks. “I can’t, I can’t do this. He’s right, I’m a fuck up. I don’t know what to do, what do I _do_.”

 She can feel her heart breaking. When she and Oliver met, he had worked so hard to get to a place of confidence in himself, away from his parents shadows. But his dad’s harsh words tore him down within seconds. She pulls his head into the crook of her neck, murmuring soft nonsense to him as he continues to cry shallowly.

 She pulls her phone out, quickly putting a plan in action.

**to: laurel**

911

can u tell lyla oliver is sick & won’t be on tonight

**to: felicity**

??? is he ok, he seemed fine last night?

**to: laurel**

i honestly don’t know

but tonight is a no go

lets hope star city is feelin smoak-y

*

They gradually make their way upstairs, back into bed. Felicity lies on her back, with Oliver resting his head on her chest and arms wrapped around her stomach. He’d slept fitfully after his breakdown, leaving Felicity to text an angry Lyla about the change in that night’s performance.

As she runs a hand through his hair, Oliver clears his throat. “I don’t want to do another album.”

Felicity angles her head to get a better look at his face, but Oliver avoids making eye contact with her. “Can you tell me why?”

“Remember, at the Bluebird Café, when you asked if I was happy when I was performing? I knew that I wasn’t. And these last few weeks, I’ve loved performing with you. Loved it. But what happens when that ends, when Merlyn makes me put out a new album and go on tour without you?” he takes a deep breath, looking up into her eyes. “I’m not happy. I don’t want to be Oliver Queen, Moira and Robert’s son. I don’t want to be splashed across tabloids, having people speculate about every part of my life. I want quiet.”

He moves slightly, pressing a kiss against her breastbone, and Felicity sighs. “Oliver, I want you to be happy. I don’t care if that means you move to Smallville and start raising goats, even though they are a little creepy.” She feels him chuckle against her skin, so she continues. “Whatever you want, we’ll make it work. Lets stick out the rest of this tour and see where it goes, okay?”

“Okay.” Oliver pushes onto his hands, moving up the bed so that they’re face to face. Felicity lifts on of her hands to frame his face, drawing his lips down to hers. The kiss is passionate, a slow burn that she feels building to something more.

When her alarm goes off suddenly, they break apart and Oliver nudges his nose against hers. Felicity moves to get off the bed, knowing she has an hour before their sound check is scheduled to start and she desperately needs a shower. Oliver grabs her hand before she can get far, pulling her close once again. He looks up at her, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face. “Go get ready, superstar.”

She grins at him, swatting his arm gently. “Text your sister, see if she wants to hang here with you tonight.”

“I don’t know, if you’re not here it might be a deal breaker.”

* 

Oliver returns for the next night’s show, though his performance is more reserved than others from the tour. They adjust the set list, leaving Felicity onstage by herself for the last couple of songs, giving Oliver the benefit of a shorter performance. During that second Star City show, she plays his song for the first time.

The stage crew wheels a piano onstage and she sits, smiling as she looks into the wings where Oliver is watching with Thea and the Canaries. “Star City, it’s been a pleasure to play for you tonight. I’ve got something new for you guys, let me know what you think.”

She plays gently, fingers moving over the keys as she sings in a comfortably low register. Someone in the audience holds up their cellphone as the song goes on and she’s soon looking at a sea of lights, moving with the crowd. She ends the song, singing to the audience that “it’ll all be alright,” and there is a brief silence before the crowd goes wild. It’s overwhelming, so she awkwardly curtsy’s as she leaves the stage.

Oliver meets her as soon as she’s offstage, folding her into a hug with one arm around her waist and the other cradling the back of her head. He’s crying, she can tell, and she is too. She lifts her head to meet his eyes and he’s smiling wide for the first time in days.

“So, does that mean you liked it?” she asks hopefully. He chuckles wetly, nodding his head as he leans in to capture her in a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song Felicity wrote for Oliver was mentioned in chapter 1 and is "Rainbow" by Kacey Musgraves (the chapter title is ALSO a reference to the song)
> 
> next chapter: more shenanigans! diggle will be back! dolly parton will probably be mentioned again!


	6. family matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy valentine's day! this isn't a particularly romantic chapter but we're moving the plot along nicely!
> 
> i've been thinking of potentially starting a one-shot series to cover the missing moments from this fic, if that's something you'd be interested in! let me know what you would want to see in the comments!
> 
> also, this chapter is dedicated to @thefrizz13 who gave me an idea in a review :-), thank you for that!

The light is filtering in through the window when Felicity wakes up the next morning. She closes her eyes and tries to block it out, cursing the fact that neither she nor Oliver remembered to close the curtains last night; the post-show adrenaline was running high in both of them, as they attempted to tear off the other’s clothes before the front door was fully shut.

She definitely doesn’t regret it, just wishes that she had had the foresight to pull Oliver’s blackout curtains fully across the windows so she could enjoy a few hours more of sleep.

The man in question is curled tightly around her, his face resting snugly in the crook of her neck. The trials of the previous days rushed back into her mind and she tightened her arms around his back, running one hand through the short hair at the nape of his neck. Oliver mumbles quietly as he attempts to get closer to her, though she’s pretty sure he’s still deeply asleep.

A few hours of cuddling in bed never hurt anybody, she thinks to herself, especially considering they’re leaving Star City that afternoon. She turns towards Oliver, dropping a kiss on the side of his head before reaching for her phone on the bedside table. She checks her emails and texts her mom, periodically stroking a hand over Oliver’s back or neck.

She’s pulled out of a deep Twitter spiral by the doorbell ringing throughout the loft, which seemingly jostles Oliver out of sleep. He groans, rolling onto his side as he runs a hand over his face.

“Wha’times’it?” he asks, trying (and failing) to stifle a yawn with his hand.

“Just after nine,” she replies, starting to move out of bed. He protests lightly, but she ignores him. “It’s probably Thea, we promised to have brunch with her before we left remember? I’ll go let her in.”

Felicity snatches his robe off a nearby chair, wrapping it around herself as Oliver pulls himself out of bed. He stretches, and she can’t help but admire the movement of his muscles as he does so. Oliver grins at her, preening slightly when he notices her attention is focused on him. “I’ll be right behind you, baby.”

As she slips out of the room and down the stairs, she can’t help but feel giddy. She played a great show and had mind-blowing sex with her boyfriend last night, so of course she has some pep in her step. She readjusts the knot of the robe’s belt before going to open the door, prepared to admonish Thea for her early arrival.

“I adore you, but isn’t nine a little early for brunch—oh shit,” she cuts herself off, determined to not embarrass herself further. “You’re not Thea.”

Moira and Robert Queen are every bit as put together as she would expect, even this early on a Thursday morning. She watches Moira give her an evaluating stare as Robert coolly states, “Yes, well, you aren’t our son. It appears we are all disappointed.”

The couple brushes past her into the loft, leaving Felicity to close the door as they make their way into the living room. After a brief moment of panic, she decides that meeting her boyfriend’s parents while essentially naked is not how she wants to make her first impression, so she dashes up the stairs and back into Oliver’s room.

“Mm, back so soon? Did you decide you would rather skip brunch and go right to dessert?” Oliver grins at her somewhat salaciously and in any other circumstance she would have already dove back into bed. But instead she watches his face drop as she looks at him in panic.

“Your parents are here.”

*

As far as first impressions go, this one definitely isn’t her best. She’d quickly dressed in her travel clothes, a pair of worn in yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt that featured the periodic table of elements on the front, which made her feel abundantly underdressed as she snuck looks at Moira’s tailored pant suit. Oliver was beside her, however, firmly grasping one of her hands with his own, grounding both of them as they faced his parents.

“Oliver, dear, are you sure she needs to be here for this? This should really be a family only conversation.” His mother gave her a scathing look, but Felicity held eye contact with the Queen matriarch. She had heard enough stories from Oliver and Thea to know that Moira Dearden Queen was an apex predator, but Felicity refused to bow to her.

“Might I remind you, _mother_ , that you are the intruder in my house, not Felicity. Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of her,” Oliver said with barely concealed rage.

Robert rolled his eyes, resting a hand on his wife’s shoulder from where he stood behind her. “Really, Oliver, you’re going to pick a fight with your parents over your flavour of the week? You’re going to throw away your career, _our_ reputation, for this trailer trash?”

“Do NOT talk about her like that,” Oliver roared, standing suddenly to face his father. “You gave up your right to call yourselves our parents when you abandoned Thea in that hospital room. Don’t pretend that you care about anything other than yourselves.”

“Watch your tone, son,” Robert warned, “I am the only thing keeping Malcolm from dropping you like a fly, so you better smarten up.”

Felicity stood, wrapping an arm around Oliver’s waist as she lifted her chin, staring at his parents. “You need to leave, now. I assume you know where the door is, seeing as you both barged through it so rudely earlier.”

The two elder Queens exchanged a look, before Moira got up and stepped closer to Felicity. “It would be wise to watch what you say, young lady. I can ruin you in this town quicker than you can blink.”

“Get out.” Oliver’s voice was the coldest she had ever heard it, and it made her shiver. “Do not try and contact me or Thea again, just pretend we don’t exist. You’ve always been good at that.”

Both of his parents looked shocked at his words, and Moira grabbed her purse off the chair she’d been sitting on and stormed out. Robert was quick to follow her, but turned around as he reached the door. “You are my greatest disappointment,” he said, before walking through the door and slamming it shut.

Oliver quickly lost all of his bravado, sinking back down onto the couch while breathing shallowly. Felicity sank down beside him and he quickly pulled her into his arms, resting his face in her hair. They sat in near silence, listening as his breathing evened out and the city began to come to life outside.

After some time had passed, Felicity lifted Oliver’s eyes to meet her own, kissing him gently on the lips. “No offense,” she murmured, shifting slightly to get more comfortable in his lap, “but I don’t like your parents too much. Thea is definitely the superior Queen.”

Despite the dramatics of the morning, Oliver choked out a laugh. “Yeah, Speedy has always been the best of us. God, what am I going to tell her?”

“The truth. That your parents are jerks that came here to… actually, I don’t really know why they came. We kinda skipped straight to the snarking, huh?” She ran a hand over the stubble that covered his cheek. “Doesn’t matter, because they’re gone now. But let her know they came by.”

“They didn’t even ask about her. How fucked up is that?” He stared at her, his eyes begging her for answers.

“It’s messed up, but you know what? You love her enough to make up for them being shitty parents, and that’s what matters to her.”

Oliver leaned into the hand she had resting on his cheek, kissing her palm gently. “How do you always know what to say?”

“I was also dealt the shitty-parent card. When my dad first left, I was so angry. I remember at one point yelling at my mom, for some stupid reason, telling her I wish she had been the one who left.” Felicity took a deep breath, feeling Oliver rub gentle circles into her back. “It broke her heart, hearing that. I only ever said it the one time, ‘cause I realized how lucky I was that she was the one who stayed. She loved me more than he ever would.”

Tears began to build up in her eyes, and Oliver gently wiped one away as it fell. “Hey, hey, it’s okay baby, don’t cry. I’m gonna text Speedy and let her know she can come over. You go call your mom, I think she would love to hear from you.”

Felicity nodded, climbing out of his lap. He smiled softly up at her before getting up and wrapping her in a hug. He was humming quietly, rocking them back and forth. It was only when he moved his lips to her ear that she realized he was singing ‘Rainbow’ back to her.

“It’ll all be alright,” he crooned, and she knew that it would be.

* 

“Hello?”

“Hey, mom.”

“Baby girl! How are you? I showed those pictures you sent me last night to the girls at work and they just could not stop talking about how beautiful you are! You are just glowing, honey!”

“Thanks, mama.”

“Hey, what’s wrong? I can hear your Mr. Square Bear face over the phone. Did that boy of yours leave the toilet seat up?”

“No, no, he’s amazing. I just miss you a lot, that’s all.”

“I miss you too, baby. Now, did I tell you about what Maureen’s son in law did last week? The nerve of some men, I swear…”

*

They’re finishing up the first sound check in the open air Coast City stadium when Oliver rushes her back to the green room, smiling mischievously as they make their way through the backstage area. She’s been fretting about this particular show, as it’s the first she’ll be playing that isn’t an entirely enclosed space and she wants to make sure the tuning on her guitar is perfect for the audience. If Oliver were to drag her off for a quickie to take her mind off of it, she wouldn’t be entirely opposed to the idea.

She’s brought out of her thoughts by the sound of Oliver chuckling. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

He nods, moving to open the door to the greenroom. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says with a wink. “But I don’t think John wants to see that.”

“Why would Digg even have to worry about that, he’s in Vegas?”

“Are you sure about that, kiddo?” Felicity whips her head around, spotting John Diggle reclining on one of the greenroom couches. He stands up, smiling broadly, and opens his arms for a hug. “C’mere girl.”

She flies into his arms, squealing loudly. “John, you’re here! Wait, how are you here, who’s running the café? Oh my god, I’m so glad to see you. Have your arms gotten bigger?”

Diggle squeezes her tight, laughing gently at her stream of consciousness. “Lord, I’ve missed your babbles. Curtis is watching the Bluebird, and no, he hasn’t messed with any of your programs.” He releases her and moves to hug Oliver. “It’s good to see you, man.”

This is what Oliver needs, she thinks. Having Diggle with them for the time being will definitely help him cope with the pressure he’s experiencing, but also allow him to let loose a bit. As wonderful as Sara, Laurel, and Dinah are, they have history with Oliver. They knew him as a bratty party boy who dutifully churned out new albums every two years, and on some level that’s what they expect of him. But John is different, he holds none of the pre-conceived notions that the people who grew up around him have. Watching the two men hug, Felicity knows that this visit will be good for all of them.

*

It isn’t until after the show, when the three of them are lounging in the hotel bar, that John proposes an idea.

“I’m not just out here to see you guys,” he admits. “I’ve been thinking about franchising the Bluebird Café, and I’ve mainly been looking out here, along the coast. A lot of talent has been blossoming up around here lately, I figured it would be a good time to expand.”

Felicity is shocked, in a good way. “Digg, that’s amazing! Would it still be the Bluebird, or would you call it something different? Ooh, the Blackbird. Or is that too obvious of a Beatles reference?”

Oliver runs a hand along her back, laughing quietly. “Baby, he hasn’t even found a location yet. Let’s give him some time to think about his options before diving into anything.”

The older man lifts his glass to his lips, finishing his drink before levelling Oliver with a look that Felicity can’t quite define. “I want you guys involved in this, as much or as little as you want. But man, if you’re up for it, I seriously want you to consider managing the joint.”

“Wait, what, me?” Oliver sputters out a response, looking incredulously between Diggle and Felicity. “John, I’m flattered, really, but I don’t know the first thing about running a business.”

Diggle laughs. “Man, do you think the army just handed me an MBA straight after my last tour? It’s something you gotta work for, but I know you. You’ve got an eye for spotting talent, you’re a strong leader, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I wouldn’t have proposed it if I didn’t think you would be successful.”

Felicity nudges him with her elbow. “I think you should think about it. You never know til you try, right?”

“I’ll think about it,” Oliver agrees. 

“That’s all I ask, man. Now, how about we grab some real food? Y’all got a Big Belly around here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> john diggle is essential to oliver queen's happiness and you can FIGHT me on that!!!
> 
> also to clarify: moira and robert came to oliver's apartment essentially to try and figure out why he isn't making music, why he decided to go on tour as an opening act vs. the main performer, and generally admonish him for not living up to the queen legacy. we'll definitely see them again in future chapters, but i wanted to give some context as to why they showed up considering oliver doesn't actually know. 
> 
> see you guys next time!


	7. far from the shallow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> senior year of university is HARD Y'ALL but thank you for sticking with me through this. the news of arrow's last season is bittersweet, but at least we still have some time left with the characters we love. plus, they live forever through fan fiction!
> 
> speaking of living forever in fic, i'm establishing the ASIBCU (a star is born cinematic universe) within this fic and **spoiler alert** in my happy bubble jack never dies. so, enjoy that!
> 
> also, did everyone else see the lady gaga/bradley cooper oscars performance? THAT is essentially the energy i imagine when i write our favourite duo performing.
> 
> please leave your comments and kudos down below, they will fuel me as i trudge through my last month of school!

After months of bus travel, questionable coffee, and a very memorable girls-only spa day in Tucson, their tour has finally come to a close. It feels bittersweet to Felicity; as much as she’s loved travelling with Oliver and the Canaries, she’s itching to put down some roots and focus on making music. Like, official music, in a studio, where she can obsess over the instrumentals and BPM in peace.

Even thinking about the possibility of making music makes her giddy.

Their last shows are along the East Coast, ending with two sold out nights in Metropolis. She’s excited to finish the tour with a bang, having conspired with the Canaries on a few surprise songs to throw in their usual set list.

Oliver has perked up as well. His parent’s visit had hit him hard, but John’s proposal had lit a spark within him she hadn’t seen since the tour began. She constantly finds him jotting down notes about a potential twin to the Bluebird Café. Felicity wasn’t exactly an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kind of girl, but finding her boyfriend typing out a business plan on his Notes app deep into the night was somewhat concerning.

She had woken up from a particularly pleasant dream featuring a dancing donut to find Oliver’s face lit up by his phone screen. “Ol’ver, what’re you doin’? It’s so early.”

The clock on the bedside table read 3:57 AM, and he grinned sheepishly. “Sorry baby, an idea came to me and I had to get it down. Go back to sleep.”

Groaning, Felicity threw an arm over her eyes to block out the light. “No more good ideas, mister. It’s too early for thinking.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The next time she woke up, the sun was out and Oliver was at the foot of the hotel room bed, a breakfast tray in his hands. She could smell French toast and sat up in the bed, making grabby-hands at the tray.

“I assume this is an okay wake-up call,” he said, placing the tray gently in her lap before sitting on the edge of the bed. Along with the French toast, he had set the tray with fresh fruit and a steaming cup of coffee, prepared just how she liked. She took a long sip of coffee, basking in its sweetness.

“You are a god among men, my love,” she murmured. She looked up at Oliver, smiling cheekily. “Are you just trying to butter me up for something? Because it’s definitely working.”

He shook his head, running a hand over her legs, which were still buried beneath the covers. “No buttering, just my way of saying thank you. For the tour, for being so understanding. Basically for being you.”

Putting her coffee back down on the tray, Felicity reached for him. God bless his reflexes, she thought as he quickly moved their breakfast off her lap before leaning in to kiss her deeply. She wrapped her arms around his neck as their lips met, trying to pull him as close as possible. “You can thank me by coming back to bed.”

*  
**group chat: tour bitches**

yung canary: so are we gonna sing africa tonite y/n

pretty bird: no

yeehaw princess: if you don’t do africa i will quit the tour

pretty bird: lis you can’t quit we have three shows left

yeehaw princess: bet

*

After they finish opening for the Canaries at the Providence show, the last stop before Metropolis, Oliver and Felicity are full of giggles. She’d finally convinced him that adding Dolly Parton’s ‘Dumb Blonde’ to the set would be a crowd pleaser and he’d surprised her on stage, donning a short platinum blonde wig for the song. They’re making their way back to the greenroom to bide their time until they have to go out and join the girls for an encore, an enthusiastic version of Toto’s ‘Africa’ that Sara had petitioned hard for, when they’re interrupted.

“Felicity Smoak? Hi, I’m Iris West. I have a proposal for you.” The dark haired girl sticks out her hand, which Felicity shakes with some hesitation.

“Um, hi? Not that it’s not great to meet you, because it is, but how did you get back here? Did you sneak past security, no, that’s crazy, right? Oliver, please say something, because I know she doesn’t look like a stalker but neither did that lacrosse player in college and—“

“And what Felicity is trying to say is, can we see some identification? It’s protocol, as I’m sure you know.” Oliver thankfully interrupts her, and Iris flushes slightly.  
“Oh shit, yes, I’m so sorry.” She holds up a backstage pass, identifying her as a Press member. “I’m a friend of Cisco, the stagehand? He told me you guys would be headed this way.”

“Oh, Cisco! I like him, a good dude. Let’s head to the greenroom to talk, my feet are killing me and this guy,” she wraps an arm around Oliver’s waist, leaning her head on his chest to try and make up for what she knows will be a lack of post-show cuddles, “made the best cheesecake earlier. You’ve gotta try some.”

Felicity settles in the greenroom with Iris, Oliver having excused himself to call Thea. She knows it’s his way of giving her privacy with Iris, to discuss whatever the proposal is, but she appreciates it anyways. Felicity kicks off her shoes and reaches for a bottle of water, gulping down half before turning to Iris. “I was serious about that cheesecake, did you want some? Or coffee, I think we have coffee around here. I don’t really know how to host people backstage, usually I just mess around on my phone and cuddle Oliver but you seemed pretty serious about your proposal. Am I talking too much?”

To her credit, Iris laughs at her babble. “I’m good, but thanks. You know Barry Allen, right?”

“Yes, Barry! We met a few times when I was living in Boston, how is he?”

“He’s good, he’s sorry he couldn’t make it out to the show tonight but he got stuck in Star City with one of our partners. We work together, at Star Labs, maybe you’ve heard of it?”

Felicity nods quickly, growing excited. “Of course I have, Harrison Wells is one of my idols, I mean, he basically created a synth-pop renaissance in 2011. Not really my genre, but it was genius.”

“Well, I just started in their PR department and when I came across your stuff online I knew we had to meet with you. Harry agrees, he thinks you have a solid sound and would love for you to come by the next time you’re in Star City. I don’t know if you’re attached to a label, I know Oliver is with Merlyn Music but we’d really like to work with you,” Iris says, holding out a business card. Felicity takes the card and she can feel herself grinning madly.

“I’m not attached to anyone! I mean, I’m pretty attached to Oliver, who wouldn’t be, his abs are like, ridiculous, but no one’s approached me professionally. Holy shit, are you for real?”

Iris looks almost as enthusiastic as she feels, and Felicity thinks that’s probably a good sign that she isn’t being Punk’d right now. “Totally for real. Whenever you’re in town, give me a call. I know Barry would be psyched to see you.” Iris looks around the room, leaning in closer to Felicity as if she’s afraid someone else might overhear. “Did Oliver Queen seriously make a cheesecake?”

“If that impresses you, you should try his chicken cordon bleu.”

*

→ @StarLabs is now following @fsmoak

→ @fsmoak is now following @StarLabs

*

Oliver says ‘I love you’ for the first time when they’re onstage during the last show in Metropolis. They’re almost done their set when he approaches the mic, smiling wide. Though the tour is so close to ending, he seems brighter than he did when they first started and it fills her with so, so much joy.

“Well, it has been a real treat to perform for you tonight, Metropolis, but our time is almost up.” He begins strumming his guitar gently, building up the melody. “Really, I couldn’t have done this tour without Felicity, so y’all owe her a real big thank you for making this happen. Honey, thank you for diving in with me.”

He starts singing, like they’d planned, though the mini speech had come from out of the blue. Felicity can feel her eyes start to tear and she almost misses her cue, distracted by the lights and the crowd, by the fact that somehow this is her life.

_Tell me something, boy, aren’t you tired tryin’ to fill that void?_

The crowd is going crazy, cheering and singing along, but Oliver and Felicity only have eyes for each other. They move towards each other onstage, close enough that they end up sharing the same mic. When she looks up, she can see Oliver’s eyes are twinkling with tears, happy tears, and that she probably looks the same. They finish the song together, smiling wide the whole time. “We’re far from the shallow now,” they sing, and Felicity while knows that the crowd is still there it feels like they have melted away, that she and Oliver are alone and pulling each other into a fierce embrace.

She can feels his face in the crook of her neck, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He drops a kiss along the line of her jaw before moving to rest his forehead against hers. He whispers something, but with the crowd roaring she can’t really make it out. She softly asks him to repeat whatever he said, partially aware that they’re still mic’d up and this would be a bad time for him to recite his credit card information.

“I love you,” he repeats, and is good as performing feels Felicity doesn’t think anything could surpass the happiness she feels in that moment.

*

@OliverJQueen: Thank you to @ALLY and Jackson Maine for letting us borrow their beautiful song for the night. @fsmoak and I were honoured to perform it.

@fsmoak: first ever tour = done. thank you to @Canaries for letting me tag along on this adventure and to @OliverJQueen for always believing in me ❤️

*

“You know, you guys are welcome to join us in Europe,” Sara says, nudging Felicity with her arm. They’ve all gathered together for one last hurrah before the Canaries continue on the international leg of their tour, and after six months on the road together Felicity has started to think of their little group as family. She’s going to miss these girls, who taught her how to _really_ apply stage makeup and championed her music among their fans.

“As much as I want to stay with you guys, I think it’s time to put down some roots,” she responds, wrapping an arm around her friend. “But thank you, really Sara. You guys honestly changed my life.”

Sara pulls her into a hug, squeezing tightly. “Oh, I’m gonna miss you, cutie. Are you sure we can’t steal you from Oliver? I’m sure Laurel won’t mind giving up her spot.”

Laurel yells indignantly from across the room, which makes Felicity laugh. “I could never replace the OG Canary,” she says. “Besides, who will keep Oliver in line if I’m not here? He could end up on one of those celebrity baking shows if we don’t keep an eye on him.”

“You’ve never complained about my baking before,” Oliver quips as he approaches the two blondes.

Sara rolls her eyes good naturedly before hugging him as well. “We get it, you’re great at everything. Your kids are probably gonna be super geniuses, huh?”

Felicity and Oliver both blush immediately, and Felicity realizes that they haven’t had the future-talk before. At least, nothing beyond the immediate ‘hey, would you think about moving to Star City once this tour is done’ kind of talk.

“I mean, intelligence is only partially genetic, a lot of studies have shown that it’s also subject to environment and possibly chance, I haven’t really looked into it lately. We could have non-genius kids, or no kids! Especially not right now, I mean, in this economy? Ruh-roh.”

 _Ending a babble with a Scooby-Doo impression, real classy Smoak_ , she thinks to herself as Sara chuckles.

“That will never get old,” she says, before walking away to where Dinah is chatting with a stagehand. Oliver is still red in the face, but has a slight smile on his face when he looks at her.

“I love you,” Felicity finds herself blurting out. “I didn’t say it back on stage, because we were kind of surrounded by thousands of people, but I do. I love you. And I’m excited to be in Star City with you. Let’s just maybe not think about kids yet.”

Oliver wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close enough that she can rest her head on his chest. “Whatever you want, baby, that’s what we’ll do.”

“Even if what I want is to ditch this party and make out on the tour bus one last time?”

“Especially that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song mentioned is shallow by lady gaga and bradley cooper


	8. home is whenever i'm with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a long time coming, my apologies! The last scene of this chapter was super hard to write for some reason, so I really procrastinated on getting any of it done. Enjoy!

If being on tour was a dream, then moving to Star City is a complete reality check for Felicity. Within the first two days she and Oliver had had their first fight, shattering the illusion of perfection that they’d had on the road. It had started simply, when she had been scrolling through apartment listings on her phone while Oliver made them a light breakfast.

“Ugh, are all apartments in Star City this expensive? How can people charge thousands of dollars in rent for places the size of a shoebox?” she grumbles, reaching for the coffee Oliver placed in front of her. The man in question chuffs out a laugh, sliding a plate of eggs across the breakfast bar towards her.

 “I really don’t get why you don’t just move in here,” he said, checking idly on the bacon frying on the stovetop. “It’s bigger than a shoebox and you wouldn’t have to worry about rent…”

They’ve had this discussion before, during the last weeks that they were touring with the Canaries. She knew she wanted to leave Vegas and move to Star City, but the logistics had been difficult to organize while on the road. Oliver repeatedly offered for her to move in to his condo, but she maintained that she wanted to start from scratch and build roots without his help, starting with finding her own apartment.

 Frustrated, Felicity threw her phone down on the bar and hops off of the stool she had been sitting on, stalking over to the living room. Oliver, confused by her sudden movement, turns off the stove and follows her over. “Hey, don’t just walk away from me. Let’s talk about this.”

 “I’ve _tried_ talking to you about this, you just aren’t getting it! I don’t want to rely on you for everything, Oliver; I can do this on my own. I _need_ to do this on my own.”

 “I just don’t see why you have to when I have more than enough space here. Why put yourself through that when you don’t have to?”

 She feels herself getting worked up and clenches her hands, digging her fingernails into her palms. “You aren’t listening. I’m not doing this to punish myself—or punish you—I just need to do this. I’m a big girl, I need to be able to establish myself outside of you.”

 Oliver inhales heavily, and she could tell that he was frustrated as well. “Why? Why do our lives need to be separate, baby? Isn’t that what being in a relationship is about, relying on each other?”

 “Because you can’t be my whole world, Oliver!” she yells, taking a step towards him. “I can’t just be Oliver Queen’s girlfriend, I’m my own person. Can you imagine what people would say if they knew we had just moved in together straight away? It would make every headline worse, and I didn’t even know that was possible.”

He looks remorseful as he reaches out to take her hand in his. Felicity didn’t think that their relationship was interesting enough to be highlighted in magazines, but whenever they had popped into a grocery store while on tour, at least one magazine had an attention-grabbing headline that called out their relationship. While they hadn’t been harassed by paparazzi while on tour, they both knew that it would be harder to avoid them while living in Star City. “Hey, you know those aren’t true. The people who matter, like Digg and Thea, _they_ know the tabloids print lies in order to sell magazines. That’s not who you are.”

“But the world doesn’t know that. All they see is gold-digging trailer trash from Vegas and they _believe_ it. I can’t live like that Oliver, I can’t,” Felicity’s voice cracks and she squeezes her eyes shut to try and hold in her tears. “It has nothing to do with you, it’s just what I need to do.”

The hand that was holding hers linked their fingers together, pulling her closer to Oliver’s body. He envelops her in a hug and leans down so his mouth was right by her ear. “Shh, honey, I’m sorry. We’ll do it your way.”

She lifts her head slightly to look him in the eyes. “Really?”

“Really. I’m sorry that I pushed you so hard on this, I forget that our experiences with the media and this whole circus are very different.” He kisses the top of her head before tightening his arms around her. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she replied, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. “Was this our first fight?”

“I think so. Unless you count that time you said you hated me because I made those cauliflower wings.”

She giggles, stepping up onto her toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. He quickly moved his head, capturing her lips in a proper kiss before she could pull away. “That’s because cauliflower is disgusting, my love. And if you ever deny me real chicken wings again I _will_ break up with you.”

*

The week after her and Oliver’s first “official” fight, Felicity finds herself nervously sitting in the reception area at Star Labs, fidgeting with her phone. It was her first meeting with Harrison Wells and his team, a meeting that could _literally_ make or break her career. Her mind was racing as she waited, and she found herself mentally running through bits of code that she had been tinkering with the night before.

“Felicity?” A familiar voice dragged her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to find a friendly face smiling back at her.

“Barry!” she exclaimed, bouncing out of the chair she was in and moving to wrap the taller man in a hug. “I’ve missed you, how’s it going?" 

He returned the embrace, patting her on the back before letting go. “I’m good, so good. My buddy Cisco—you know him, he was the instruments guy on your tour—he’s got me working on some really sick stuff, I’ll play it for you later once you’re done with Harry.”

The familiarity of Barry’s presence eases her anxieties immensely, and she felt herself relaxing as he talked about what he was working on. They chatted idly for a few minutes, until the woman behind the receptionist’s desk called her name, letting her know that Mr. Wells was ready to meet with her. Felicity let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and picked up her guitar case. “I’m gonna head in now, I guess, but I’ll see you after?”

Barry nodded enthusiastically, pushing her gently towards the door. “Knock ‘em dead, Smoak.”

*

“Hello?”

“Hey, mom, do you have a sec?”

“Oh hi baby! Of course I do, I’m just in the back room doing some inventory, you know how Melanie always messes up on the counting.”

“Of course. Melanie. Psh, counting is a basic skill. Anyways, I have some news…”

“You’re pregnant!”

“What, no, mom. That’s literally the opposite of my news. Well, not really, the opposite of pregnancy is death right, but nobody died. I promise.”

“Ok baby girl, just tell me your news.”

“I got signed. By a record label. A real one, a _good_ one and I am so happy and you’re the first person I wanted to tell. I’m literally happy crying outside a Whole Foods right now. Mom, I did it.”

“Oh Felicity, my darling girl. I knew you would, I knew it. You deserve this baby girl, and I am so, so proud of you.”

“Mo-om, stop, you’re gonna make me cry more.”

“Well now I’m crying, so we’re even.”

“I couldn’t have done this without you, and your support. The constant Dolly Parton playing in the apartment. I love you, mama.”

“I love you too baby. Now, stop crying on the phone to me and call your man! Go out and celebrate, this is amazing news!”

“I will tell him, I just wanted you to be the first one I told.” 

“Thank you, baby girl. Now go call your beau and let him know that I still want grandkids, no matter how many albums you put out.”

“And you made it weird. Hanging up now, love you!" 

*

As she approached the door to Oliver’s apartment, Felicity felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach. _There’s nothing to be worried about, Oliver’s going to be happy for you_. Grabbing the key he had given her, she opened the door and walked in, slipping her shoes off before heading for the kitchen. She finds Oliver there, stirring something on the stove, with Thea sitting on one of the barstools near the counter, tossing a salad. She leans against the doorway, watching the two siblings work in tandem. “Smells good in here, guys.”

Oliver turned around, a soft smile on his face. “You’re back, how did it go?” he asked, putting down the wooden spoon he had been working with. Thea dropped the salad tongs as well, leaning forward in anticipation.

“Well, one of the sound engineers, Caitlin, is looking for a roommate, so I said I would come over at some point this weekend to check out the space.” She knew it was mean to act so coy about the meeting, but watching the Queen siblings squirm as they waited to hear more was totally worth it.

“That’s great! I have a couple showings with the realtor on Saturday for potential Bluebird locations, we can try and work it around that,” Oliver said nonchalantly, while Thea tapped her nails against the counter. “Did Wells say anything? How did your meeting with him go?”

“It went really well, actually. So well, in fact, that I won’t be able to go to any of the showings with you on Saturday, because he wants me to start recording this weekend.” Felicity felt a smile take over her face as she watched both Queen siblings realize what she was saying.

Oliver rushes across the kitchen, lifting her into his arms as Thea excitedly yells in the background. “You’re recording an album!”

“Not an album, like, officially. Wells wants to get me into the studio and record a few songs first, just so that we can all get used to each other. Country isn’t really Star Labs’ genre, you know?” Felicity clarifies, breaking out of Oliver’s embrace to hug Thea.

“Still, it’s amazing and we need to celebrate,” Thea proclaims. “Do you like balloons? We should get balloons.”

Resting a hand on his sister’s shoulder, Oliver shakes his head, trying to keep Thea’s idea of a celebration from spiralling into a full-blown event. “I think Felicity would be happy with a nice dinner and dessert, but thank you for the ideas, Speedy.”

“It’s true, I’m really hungry,” she says, wrapping an arm around Oliver’s waist. “But maybe we could get celebratory pedicures tomorrow?”

Thea agrees to celebrate with pedicures and a girl’s day, ushering Felicity to the kitchen’s breakfast bar so that they can all discuss her meeting at Star Labs while Oliver finishes cooking dinner. As they chat and eat, Felicity finds herself feeling utterly content in a way she never has before. _This is what home feels like,_ she thinks to herself, watching Oliver and Thea bicker over who has to do the dishes. It’s a feeling she could get used to.


End file.
